The celebratory clamor at Old Man Chen's noodle stall eventually faded into the warm, sticky embrace of the Jinjiang night. Full of rich broth and fizzy joy, the Phoenix District contingent drifted back to their homes, leaving behind echoing laughter and the lingering scent of triumph. Kai walked back with his family – Weimin walking taller than Kai had ever seen, Lifen clutching his arm with a dazed, happy smile, and Mei skipping between them, chattering about noodles and football stars. Back in the cramped apartment, the reality of the letter, now carefully smoothed out and placed on the small shrine shelf beside a faded photo of Kai's grandparents, felt both monumental and surreal. Sleep, when it finally came, was deep and dreamless, a complete surrender after the emotional tempest.
***
Morning sunlight streamed through the grimy window, painting dust motes gold. Kai awoke not to the usual weight of mundane routine, but to a fizzy anticipation humming in his veins. He was Lin Kai, professional footballer. The words still felt foreign, incredible. School felt like an alien landscape. Whispers followed him down the corridors – "*That's him! The one who signed for United B!*" "*Sixteen! Playing in the CC!*" Teachers who usually barely acknowledged him offered warm smiles and hearty congratulations. His stern physics teacher even paused mid-equation to say, "Well done, Lin Kai. A remarkable achievement. Don't neglect your studies entirely, eh?" Coach Deng, overseeing the school team's morning drills on the cracked concrete pitch, gave him a rare, gruff nod. "Heard the news. Good. Now show these lads what professional pace looks like for five minutes before you vanish." Kai obliged, a blur of focused energy amidst the schoolboys, the familiar concrete feeling like a launchpad now, not a boundary.
The school day passed in a blur of well-wishes and distracted thoughts. When the final bell rang, Kai didn't linger. He met his parents and Mei at the school gate – Weimin had taken a rare afternoon off, his work-stained hands scrubbed cleaner than usual, Lifen still radiating quiet disbelief mixed with profound relief. They boarded a bus heading not towards Phoenix District, but back towards the gleaming towers of Dragon Bay, towards the Jinjiang United training complex.
Their first stop wasn't the imposing B Team building, but the slightly less grand structure housing the Youth Academy. Kai had insisted. He needed to see Coach Liang. He needed to understand. They were ushered into a small, functional office smelling faintly of liniment and chalk. Coach Liang sat behind a cluttered desk, his sharp eyes lifting from a tactical diagram as they entered. He looked at Kai, then at his parents, his expression unreadable.
"Lin Kai," he stated, his voice calm. "Parents. I expected you might come."
Kai stepped forward slightly. "Coach Liang. Sir. I… I wanted to thank you. For the trial. For the chance." He paused, gathering his words. "And… I wanted to explain. I never meant… I applied for the U18s. I wanted to be here."
Coach Liang leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He studied Kai for a long moment. "I know you did, Lin Kai. And you impressed me. Greatly." A flicker of something – perhaps regret, perhaps pride – crossed his usually impassive face. "Your performance in the final match… playing out of position, under that pressure… it was exceptional. Raw, but exceptional. Vision. Composure beyond your years. That pass for the goal? Textbook." He paused. "I had you marked. Top of my list for the U18 squad. I was preparing the scholarship papers myself."
Kai felt a pang. He *had* been wanted. "Then…?"
"Then," Coach Liang continued, a wry smile touching his lips, "Coach Deng Rui happened. Head Coach of the B Team. He was watching that trial match, scouting for potential depth, maybe a future prospect. He saw what I saw. But he saw something else too. He saw someone who didn't look out of place battling against seasoned reserves. He saw fire. He saw *now*." Liang leaned forward, his gaze intense. "He came to me after the match. Said, 'Liang, that left winger – the skinny kid with the messy hair and the eyes like hot coals – I want him. For the B Team. Now.'"
Liang spread his hands. "I argued. I told him you were sixteen, that you needed the U18 structure, time to develop. Deng Rui just snorted. He said, 'Time? Talent like that learns faster playing against men who want to break his legs than against boys who want his autograph. He's got the guts. Let him prove he has the game.'" Coach Liang sighed, a sound of reluctant admiration. "He overruled me. Pulled you straight into the senior setup. Signed the offer himself."
He looked directly at Kai. "I wanted you, Lin Kai. I believed in your potential for *this* path." He gestured around the office, symbolizing the youth academy. "But Coach Deng saw potential for a different path. A harder, faster, potentially brighter path. And he's rarely wrong about these things." A genuine smile broke through. "So, while I lost a promising U18 midfielder, Jinjiang United gained a potentially explosive B Team winger. Make us proud, Lin Kai. Play with that fire. Learn fast. And remember," his voice softened slightly, "my door is always open if you need advice. Now go. Coach Deng is waiting, and he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Relief, understanding, and a renewed sense of purpose washed over Kai. He hadn't been rejected; he'd been accelerated. "Thank you, Coach Liang. I will. I promise." He bowed slightly, his parents murmuring their thanks. They left the office, the weight of Liang's unexpected endorsement adding another layer of steel to Kai's resolve.
***
The Jinjiang United B Team headquarters had a different atmosphere. Less polished academy sheen, more functional, gritty professionalism. The air smelled of deep heat spray, leather, and effort. They were shown into Coach Deng Rui's office. It was larger than Liang's but starkly utilitarian – whiteboards covered in complex tactical diagrams, shelves stacked with binders labelled "Opposition Analysis," a worn leather football sitting in the corner. Coach Deng stood by the window, looking out at a training pitch where senior players were running drills. He turned as they entered. He was a bear of a man, thick-set, with close-cropped grey hair, intense dark eyes that missed nothing, and a presence that filled the room. He radiated an aura of gruff, no-nonsense authority.
"Lin Kai," he said, his voice a low rumble. He nodded at Weimin and Lifen. "Parents. Sit." He gestured to chairs facing his large, cluttered desk. He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "You impressed me, kid. Against my reserves. Playing out of position, tired, raw… but you had balls. You saw the pass. You made the run. You didn't hide." He fixed Kai with a piercing stare. "That's half the battle at this level. The other half is talent, which you've got, and work ethic, which you'd better have in spades if you want to survive here."
He picked up a thick document from his desk. "Contract. Standard B Team academy-professional hybrid. You're sixteen, so it's structured for development, but you're signing as a senior squad member." He slid it across the desk towards Kai, then placed another copy in front of Weimin and Lifen. "Read it. All of it. Ask questions. Your parents need to understand, and they need to sign too."
The next hour was a blur of legal jargon translated into practical terms by Coach Deng's blunt explanations and the quiet, careful questions from Weimin, with Lifen listening intently, her hand occasionally tightening on Kai's arm.
* **Term:** Two years, with club option for two more extensions based on performance.
* **Status:** Registered player for Jinjiang United B Team, competing in the Celestial Championship (CC).
* **Salary:** **¥70,000 per month** (approximately $10,000 USD). Paid monthly. Performance bonuses for starts, goals, assists, team wins, clean sheets (for outfield players), and promotion.
* **Scholarship:** Full academic scholarship to the prestigious Jinjiang International School (or an approved equivalent of the family's choosing), covering all tuition, books, and associated fees. Mandatory academic progress reports required.
* **Accommodation:** Provided at the club's secure Academy Residence Hall (single room for senior prospects), including meals, laundry, and 24/7 security. Mandatory residence during the season except for approved leave.
* **Training:** Full-time professional schedule. Morning technical/tactical sessions, afternoon physical conditioning/gym, video analysis. Expected attendance: 6 days a week minimum. Rest days managed by the coaching/medical staff.
* **Medical:** Full coverage under the club's top-tier sports medical insurance. Access to club physiotherapists, doctors, nutritionists, and sports psychologists.
* **Appearance/Image Rights:** Standard club percentage (15%) for official endorsements and image usage. Personal endorsements subject to club approval.
* **Code of Conduct:** Strict adherence to club rules regarding behavior, media interaction, social media use, diet, rest, and anti-doping regulations. Zero tolerance for breaches.
The figure – ¥70,000 a month – hung in the air. Weimin's calloused fingers traced the number on the page. Lifen gasped softly, her eyes wide. It was more money than they saw in half a year combined. Enough to transform their lives. Enough to lift the constant weight of financial worry that had shaped Kai's entire childhood.
Coach Deng watched their reactions, his expression unchanging. "It's a professional wage for a professional job," he stated matter-of-factly. "The CC isn't the ISL, but it's men's football. It's demanding. The money comes with expectation. You train like a pro, you live like a pro, you perform like a pro. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach," Kai said, his voice firm, his eyes locked on Deng's. The responsibility felt immense, thrilling.
"Good." Deng picked up a pen. "Any questions? No? Sign." He pointed to the lines at the end of the document.
Kai's hand trembled only slightly as he signed his name – *Lin Kai* – on the line designated for the player. Then Weimin, his signature slow and deliberate, signing as parent/guardian. Finally, Lifen, her hand shaking visibly, added her name beside her husband's. The scratch of the pens was the only sound in the room, sealing Kai's future.
Coach Deng took the signed contracts, added his own bold signature with a flourish, and stamped them with the official Jinjiang United FC seal. "Welcome to Jinjiang United B, Lin Kai," he said, a hint of something resembling satisfaction in his voice. "Induction starts Monday, 7 AM sharp. Don't be late. Bring your boots, your brain, and that fire I saw. Dismissed."
***
The journey back to Phoenix District was silent, but it was a silence thick with overwhelming emotion. Kai held the copy of his signed contract in his hands, the weight of the paper immeasurable. The numbers – *¥70,000 per month* – seemed to glow on the page. He looked at his parents. Weimin stared straight ahead out the bus window, his jaw clenched tight, but Kai saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes reflecting the passing city lights. Lifen held Mei on her lap, but her gaze was distant, fixed on some invisible point, tears silently tracking down her cheeks, her hand gripping Weimin's arm.
Mei, oblivious to the financial earthquake, hummed a tuneless song, playing with a loose thread on her dress. "Gege is a big footballer now," she announced happily to no one in particular.
They reached the familiar alleyway, climbed the creaking stairs. The apartment felt smaller, shabbier somehow, yet also imbued with a new, hopeful energy. Kai placed the contract carefully beside the acceptance letter on the shelf. He turned to his parents. Seeing Lifen's silent tears, the profound relief and disbelief etched on Weimin's face, broke something open inside him.
"Mum, Dad," he said, his own voice thick. "It's okay now. Look." He gestured towards the contract. "Seventy thousand. Every month. No more worrying. No more…" He struggled to articulate the years of hidden strain, the patched clothes, the skipped meals, the constant calculations. "I can take care of us now. I can take care of you."
Lifen let out a small sob, pulling him into a fierce, trembling hug. "Oh, Kai… my boy…"
Weimin cleared his throat roughly, blinking hard. He placed a heavy hand on Kai's shoulder, pulling him slightly away from Lifen. His eyes, red-rimmed but blazing with fierce pride, met Kai's. "Listen to me, son," he said, his voice low and gravelly with emotion. "This money… it's yours. You earned it with your feet, your heart, your sweat on that pitch. Don't you worry about us. Your mother and I… we manage. We always have. This?" He pointed at the contract. "This is for *your* future. Save it. Invest it wisely. Buy the boots you need, the training gear. Focus on your game. Work harder than you've ever worked. Become the best damn footballer you can be." He squeezed Kai's shoulder, his grip almost painful. "That's how you take care of us. By making us proud. By chasing that dream with everything you've got. Understand?"
Kai looked into his father's eyes, seeing the years of struggle, the quiet dignity, the unshakeable love distilled into this fierce, protective pride. The tears Kai had held back finally spilled over. He nodded, unable to speak, the lump in his throat too large. "Yes, Dad," he choked out. "I understand. I will."
Weimin pulled him into a rough, brief hug, the scent of machine oil and cheap soap a familiar anchor. "Good lad." He released him, wiping his own eyes hastily with the back of his hand. "Now. Enough waterworks. We should celebrate properly. Simple celebration. Dumplings? My treat this time." He managed a shaky grin, trying to lighten the monumental moment.
Lifen smiled through her tears, wiping her face. "Dumplings sound perfect."
Mei, finally picking up on the intense emotion, looked from her crying mother to her teary-eyed brother and father. "Why is everyone sad-happy?" she asked, tilting her head.
Kai crouched down, pulling his little sister into a hug. "Because, firecracker," he said, his voice rough but warm, "sometimes the best magic makes you cry a little when it finally comes true." He looked up at his parents, then back at the contract on the shelf beside the letter that had brought despair and then delivered the sky. The fire in his eyes, now mingled with tears of gratitude and responsibility, burned brighter than ever. The Golden Dragon of Phoenix District had his contract. The impossible climb was just beginning.